The Man who calls himself Stormbringer
by Apollos the Destroyer
Summary: When a rather merry band of Nords, apart of the Stormbringer clan, set out after a Golden Dragon, they do not expect to end up in a foreign land. Experience Action, Mystery and some other things that make up a story, while enjoying this story.
1. The Golden Dragon

Jonathan Stormbringer, rose his hammer high into the air before bringing it crashing down on the metal before him, glowing red hot as sparks and tiny shards of impurities flew off of the metal. He rose his hammer once more and repeated this process multiple times before he saw that the metal was beginning to cool and quickly walked back to the hearth and slipping the metal in before pinching a bit of fire salt from the large bowl that rested next to him and tossing it into the flames, watching them spring up a hot white color. After a couple of minutes, he reached back into the heart and pulled out the metal from the hearth and placed it onto the anvil, raising his hammer once more as he beat the Damascus steel sword into shape. Damascus Steel was known by the name of Skyforge Steel by those who worked at the SKyforge up in Whiterun, but for those who lived outside of that place, well they had to come up with more inventive ways to create better weapons.

As the metal fell into shape by his considerable amount of Nordic strength, which was higher than that of the Average Nord, he smiled to himself before slipping the metal into waters taken from the mythical source next to the Elder Tree. He pulled the metal out of the water before grabbing a spring sage and started working on creating the fuller that would lighten the blade considerably, allow blood to flow from the wounds, and for the sword to be taken out easier. His sky blue eyes studied the blade with an experts gaze as the Fuller came into being, his hammer slamming down onto the top fuller, the bottom one taking the force and helping create the groove on both sides of the blade.

Finally coming to stop, he picked up the blade and attached the hilt and bottom part before heat treating the metal to bind it to the handle before adding in the bottom part, a pommel. He was holding the fire spell to the metal before finally stopping, sweat lining his forehead from the mana usage, something he wasn't very accustomed to, like most nords, he viewed Magic as the creation of Elves, but he was a little more open minded, and having trained under the grey beards to learn the Voice, he could at least defend himself if he was ever disarmed.

Stepping forward he grabbed the leather straps, grabbing the pot of glue made from boiling down deer hooves and he grabbed a small brush and started applying it to the strapps, wrapping them around the handle of the sword. Once he knew that it wouldn't become unwieldy from the sweat that lines the hands during Battle, he walked over to the grinding wheel were he sat down and went to work on cleaning up the blade, polishing it and sharpening it. Once he deemed it to be suitable enough h stepped back from the millstone and grabbed the whetstone from the table beside him before he set to work to give himself that nice, fine edge that the various warriors who came to him seeked.

He moved like that for hours, finishing off the project that took him months to finish, his eyes roaming over the blade when he was finally finished, an easy smile spreading across his face before he stood up and looked towards his son, apart of the Stormbringer clan. "My boy, you have finished Brotherband training and you are now worthy of this sword, may Talos guide it into the hearts of your enemies." Jonathan Stormbringer said as he bent over and handed the sword to his son before grabbing the sheath. His boy was tall and broad, like him, and two them, this Damascus Steel Greatsword was a simple sword to them. He reached behind him and pulled out a metal pole, the end of it shaped like a cloud with a bolt of lightning coming from it, the metal was white hot and he pressed it into the hardened leather of the sheath, smoke rising up as the mark of the Stormbringer was placed upon it. He stuck the brand back into the hearth, nodding towards his eldest son who dumped the remnants of the fire salt bowl into it, the coals in it burning brightly. He reached back after a minute and pressed the brand on his son's chest, the hardened leather armor that was stretched of the steel plates burning along with it. His son was now officially a member of the Stormbringer Clan, and a man in nordic culture as was their custom.

Him and his clan were of the classic sort of nords, those who still knew how to use the Thu'um and were still the type to use it in battle as it was given to man originally to use. He rolled his broad shoulders as he stood up, grabbing the sword that hung on the wall of his forge before strapping it to his waist. He went through the motions, grabbing the various pieces of armor before holding onto his helmet, the dragon teeth sitting on it as horns, bones from the dragons that the Dovahkiin had killed when going after the world eater.

He slipped the helmet onto his and suddenly the father was gone, and the Leader of the Stormbringer clan was present. He walked down the steps as he clasped his shield to his arm, it looked like it was taken straight off of an ox cart and was made out of old wood, and strengthened by ironband's, the middle of it having a solid iron stud. The rim of it was lined with a similar quality of iron. All of it leading to a strengthened shield that can withstand a direct hit from an Orc wielding one of their clubs.

Him and his kin were of a different breed from the normal Nords, they were heavily built, stronger and had a natural affinity to metallurgy and working a forge. The Place they lived at seemed to wield the power of the Kynareth and made their forges burn bright, Zenarth giving them the ability to work and Akatosh making sure their time was well used, and Talos himself seemed to breathe life into the weapons that he and his forefathers created.

He unsheathed his sword and held it up to the light, The Dwarven-Ebony alloy glinting in the sun, giving off a burnt gold appearance. The weapon was unbelievably sharp and was named simply as The Blade of Arkay, for it was a weapon of death. He looked at the blood red crystal that rested in the center of his hilt, it was a weird contraption that when he ran his finger over the blade and muttered the words, Infernum, the blade would become lined with black flames that once they touched those not of Stormbringer lineage, would be caught in a fire that could not be extinguished. It seemed to also recharge itself on the souls of his enemies and if he muttered, Celeritas, his swing would seem to become the wind itself, and when he yelled out Talos, a blinding light would erupt from it and cause a minor explosion that was harmful to anyone not of Stormbringer Lineage.

He sheathed the blade once more before walking over to the training field where he picked up a bronze saxe knife and handed it to his son, "Use it." He uttered, his voice deep and enveloping. The male held the blade that was practically a knife in his hands, but to most would be a dagger or a short sword depending on who you asked, "Use the Sea Axe." He said, urging his son forward, smiling as his son started walking through the net without looking down, his elder brother calling out directions at an increasing pace, his second born added in extra movements as well, ones that would be needed in battle, all in all, his son was quite average...but average to his people meant incredibly dangerous and deadly everywhere else.

"Oberjarl!" One of his people called out and the Nord looked to the left, looking towards the Nord that ran towards him. "The Dovahkiin defeated Alduin!" He yelled out and at that moment, Jonathan smiled widely, which on him look intimidating as all hell. "Prepare the Wolfships, we are heading to Skyrim!" He bellowed out, motioning for his son to rest for a second before he turned around and walked off, whistling a merry little tune as he walked across Hallosham, his little town on the island that he raided and conquered years back.

Walking towards the Harbor, he looked towards his boat, Reefgrinder, the black wood standing out on the green sea as gentle waves lapped at its sides. He looked towards the rather useful and unique sail design that Haden Thornson came up with, designing it off of that of the wing of an Heron. It had two sails that ran off of a pulley system, so that when the starboard sail was raised, the port sail would lower and when the wind came in directly from the back, the could raise both sails. When the wind came in from the right, they would raise the Port side sail, when it came in from the left, they would raise the starboard side sail. The Reefgrinder's best sailing when the wind was on it beam.

"EVERYONE, LOAD UP!" Jon bellowed out, his voice echoing across the place as various wolfship crew members loaded into their boats as if they were going on a raid. Unlike his brethern on the mainland, they were more seafaring and by that regard, they went on more raids to get the materials they needed without having to go into town, and the best thing was is the simple fact is that because it is the way they run, they don't have a bounty on them, and it might be because they have never raided a nordic village, sticking mostly to elven villages and towns.

They all served in a fleet of twenty wolfships, each capable of holding thirty to thirty-five men each. Than there was the main Wolfship which was used by the Maktig and the Oberjarl, who for the first time in forever, was the same person. The Maktig was the mightiest warrior of the Sunderland as they called there little eyeland, the one who even if pitted against the Imperial's best and that of their land faring brethren would come out on top, granted with a little trouble from his land faring brethren.

Jonathan walked towards the Helm of the ship, his hand resting on the tiller as he raised his hand and brought it down, a "FUS" escaping his lips as a word of Power exploded through the air and suddenly they were off, rowing first into the open seas before they began the two day journey to Windhelm, which is wear the feast will be held for the Dovahkiin.

+=+Two Days Later+=+

Jonathan and his people finally pulled into the port, sliding into the piers, portside facing the planks before him and his people tied themselves off and jumped out of the various Wolfships, landing on the wood a couple of seconds later, walking into the city with his people following him, Talos pendants resting proudly on their chests, along with a Ring of Talos adorning their fingers which gave them even greater skill in battle.

The Stormbringer looked at the rough stone walls that made up the winding streets of Windhelm, he couldn't help the distinctive sneer that spread across his lips at the sight of the Dark Elves, their grey skin, alien appearance, and onyx eyes just reminded him too much of the Daedric Lords for them to ever settle right with him, now that is not to say he has not laid in bed with them before, the females were seemingly blessed with the grace of Dibella while in bed, despite looking like the underside of Lorkhans briefs. Now his wife has seemed to have been blessed by Mara and Dibella, she had the beauty of the gods, and since she was currently on way with his fourth child, she had to stay in the Oberhall with a regent of guards stationed there to protect her.

He smiled to himself as he finally walked up the steps leading into the halls of Windhelm, nodding his head to the Jarl there. "Jarl Ulfric." He said, bowing his head to the Stormcloak and leader of the rebellion against the Empire, which was foolish considering who was once the leader of the empire. The Leader of the Stormbringer clan shook his head as he went and sat at the stone table, grabbing a wheel of cheese and motioning for his men to dig in.

+=+A couple of Hours Later +=+

Him and his men finally finished off the last keg of ale and were singing songs that praised Ysmir, the dragon of the north, and Talos. He held his tankard in one hand, the amber liquid sloshing over the rim and hitting the ancient stone floors. He looked around, his eyes blurry before he stood up and made his way back over to the Jarl's throne, his eyes studying it before he collapsed into it, downing the cup in one go before he peered into the war room where Ulfric Stormcloak stood with his generals where they discussed plans on what to do next concerning both the matters of Whiterun and on how to claim his title as High King of Skyrim.

The Oberjarl shook his head as he stood up from the throne...and stumbled forward, almost falling onto his face, thankfully though, years at sea, saved him from doing so. Standing up he walked forward, his gait wide and strong as he grabbed a potion off of the table, one filled with a ruby red liquid that shimmered with an ethereal energy. Pulling out the stopper, he quickly downed it, feeling the healing potion remove the ill effects of being drunk.

"ALRIGHT MEN, LET US HEAD BACK TO SEA!" He yelled out, just for the benefit of Jarl Ulfric. The moment that the Jarl seemed satisfied with the fact that they were leaving, he motioned for his men to take anything of value, and in a surprising turn of events, they started walking, not a sound rising from their feet as they grabbed silver plates, bars of gold and Silver and various necklaces from the many drawers. The Moment one of the Windhelm guards walked in, the man charged with making sure no one spoke up, thumped him over the head with a dwarven warhammer, then proceeded to catch the guard before he hit the floor. Seconds later they were walking out of the castle, his hands motioning for his men to dispatch the two door guards, twin ebony warhammers flying forward and hitting their helmets, crumpling the steel inwards and their faces. Blood squirted out of the small lines that allowed the guards to see before they fell to the ground, dead.

"Let's go." He said, his voice barely above a whisper as he walked forward, his legs bent slightly as he pulled out his great sword, the quick hiss of it escaping from its hold promising death to any who bared his way. As they slowly walked forward, a gigantic shadow loomed over them,him and his men turned their heads upwards, the form of a rather large, golden, dragon passing by over head. It's scales glimmering slightly as if holding in an inner light. The dragon craned it's head, amber eyes studying the individuals before it continued on its way out over Windhelm and heading out towards Sea. "AFTER THE DRAGON!" He bellowed out, all semblance of stealth gone as the heavily muscled raiders ran forward, bursting through the gigantic doors that led out to the harber, each Nord jumping onto a boat. "BRING OUT THE AIR WIZARDS!" He yelled out, suddenly men in light blue robes were helped out from below deck, their faces heavily marked with tattoos in Dovhazul. The rose their hands, shouting to the heavens the clouds churning as his men back watered, before moving in syncrhonity, and turned the boat. "Let loose the sails!" He shouted out, the sails rising up and becoming taut as they hauled it in tight. "DROP THE FIN!" He ordered, a long piece of would being dropped down into the water, fitting snuggly in the water tight box. "LET LOOSE!" He bellowed before with a great burst of light, the wizards shouted and the sails filled out, sending each boat flying out of the harbor at an insane speed, he turned the tiller, the boat turning swiftly as he began heading towards his island. He motioned for the other two wizards to help propel him forward, his hand swing outwards as two more sails were released, swinging out from the mast, taut and hauled in. The Rose their hands and projected Kynaereth's wrath onto the sails, sending them flying forward at an even greater speed, the bow of the boat rising out of the water slightly.

Sea Mist sprayed up over the sides as his men went about their work on Reefgrinder as they were propelled across the sea, following the golden dragon. Suddenly it dipped left, heading away from his island and towards deeper waters. He turned the tiller to follow, having one of his men motion to the other Wolfships to head back to the island, his Son becoming acting Oberjarl while he was away.

+=+ Some odd amount of days Later +=+

The Sight of Land slowly expanded into view as they followed the Dragon of Gold as him and his men began to call it. Wild and expansive jungles soon came into view as they rode forward, slowly nearing the land, than the Dragon seemed to stop suddenly and turned on them, its body growing before it slowly became the size of a mountain, two extra legs growing out of its body before it bellowed out golden flames that enveloped the little Wolfship.

The Moment the flames cleared, the waters were different, calmer, the landmass that once sat before them, gone, replaced with another, cities that glimmered in the light stood out as dragons of all kinds flew through the sky, the gigantic Golden Dragon just now landing on it, iut's form shrinking to the size of a man, his robes golden and flashing in the sunlight. "Oberjarl?" One of his men asked him, their voice filled with uncertainty as two, rather large, boats came up to them, their flags marked with the figure of a dragon. "I don't know men, I don't know."

 **Author's Note:** I know, I know, what an exciting first chapter. Don't worry folks, there will be more, this is not the last you have seen of Jonathan Stormbringer and his little merry band of Raiders on the Reefgrinder. And Yes, as you have probably guessed, they ain't on Nirn anymore.


	2. Dragon What?

Last time:

The Sight of Land slowly expanded into view as they followed the Dragon of Gold as him and his men began to call it. Wild and expansive jungles soon came into view as they rode forward, slowly nearing the land, than the Dragon seemed to stop suddenly and turned on them, its body growing before it slowly became the size of a mountain, two extra legs growing out of its body before it bellowed out golden flames that enveloped the little Wolfship.

The Moment the flames cleared, the waters were different, calmer, the landmass that once sat before them, gone, replaced with another, cities that glimmered in the light stood out as dragons of all kinds flew through the sky, the gigantic Golden Dragon just now landing on it, it's form shrinking to the size of a man, his robes golden and flashing in the sunlight. "Oberjarl?" One of his men asked him, their voice filled with uncertainty as two, rather large, boats came up to them, their flags marked with the figure of a dragon. "I don't know men, I don't know."

NOW

Jonathan looked as the ships neared the boat, his hand went to the hilt of his great sword as he eyed the two ships wearily. "Arm up boys!" He yelled out as his body became taut as the ships came alongside his, men began pouring overboard, dressed in odd looking armor. "LET'S GET 'EM!" He bellowed out before running forward, his sword escaping the sheath and cutting through the other man's armour, slicing through metal, flesh and bone. The moment the Blade of Arkay passed fully through. He pulled the blade back to him and stabbed through the chest plate of another male, his eyes widening in alarm as blood began to bubble out of his lips, staining his pale skin burgundy. The Oberjal pulled his blade free after planting his foot on the man's chest, crumpling the steel plate as he pushed him away from the sword.

He ducked downwards, feeling the passing of a blade over his head before he turned around and cut through the man's kneecaps, causing him to fall to the ground before standing up and beheading him. "CELERITAS!" He bellowed before he started moving as if the wind was behind him, his sword blurring as it plowed through his adversary's before a sharp whistle pierced the air. All battle stopped as he looked upwards, watching as one of the officer's dropped down onto the deck, leather wings slowing his fall, silvery armor shimmering in the faint light. The moment he stopped fighting, so did his men as he eyed the new comer warily. "Tell me, who might you be?" The man said, the Common Tongue rolling out of his mouth like satin on silk.

The Nords only response was a steady glare, their grips tightening on the hilts of their weapons as they began to edge forward, their gait smooth and long, easily adapting to the surface each time it adjusted. Suddenly a man clad in shimmering bronze armor dropped down behind them before the two rose their arms upwards and a white light filled the area, suddenly they were all of the ship and on dry land, their ship in the harbor, though that was unknown to them.

"What in Arkay's name was that?!" Jonathan Stormbringer yelled out questioningly. "Oh so the brute does speak." The man clad in silver stated. "Follow me." He said before turning around and walking off towards the shimmering city, not waiting for the others to follow, just expecting them to. But it was either follow the man, or stay here, on a land they knew nothing about. Walking forward, he sheathed his sword, his men doing the same as they walked. He reached up and pulled off his helmet, holding it at his side. "What did you two do and where is my ship?" He growled out. The Man in Bronze spoke up this time. "A simple transportation spell, you ship is safe in /our/ harbor." Jonathan looked at the man in surprise before quickly schooling his features and offering a grunt in return.

"So I ask again, who are you?" The Man in Silver asked once more. "Nords." He replied. "People of Nirn, how...interesting." The Bronze man said as they walked, finally stepping onto the streets of the city. They looked around at the place in wonder, before noticing a being with pointed ears, upturned and wide eyes, fair skin and brown hair. "Elf." He uttered in a low voice, his hand going to the the top of the Ebony Axe before he started raising it. Almost like lightning, the man from earlier laid his hand on Jon's arm. "By Tharon, you are dense, what do you think would have happened if you pulled out that axe right there, snow-child?" The man dressed in Golden asked, his eyebrow raised. "You would have died the most brutal way anyone could die in my realm." The Golden Dragon-Man stated before raising his hand off of Jon's arm.

Stormbringer sent a scathing glare in the Altmers direction before he looked over at the Dragon-Man. "Who are you?" He asked the male. "My name is thirteen syllables long in your native language, so just call me High King Apollos, the Dragon of Gold." Erak said before looking toward the men of silver and bronze. "Those are my brothers, High Prince Exodus, is the Dragon of Silver, and Prince Xedus is the Dragon of Bronze." He said, pointing to the men that were escorting them. "And why am I here?" Jonathan asked calmly. "Because my Kingdom is at war with my once best friend, High King of the North, Theron, the Dragon of Obsidian." He said, his voice dropping as his eyes became clouded with anger.

High King Apollos turned his head as he looked to the North, his eyes searching. "You stated War, but why am /I/ here, why is /my/ men with me?" Jon asked, emphasizing different points before he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Because, you are Maktig, you are Oberjarl, you are /Stormbringer/." The High King said, thunder booming in the distance at the words "Stormbringer". Jonathan looked around, his eyebrow raising slightly as he looked around. "I am the Maktig, but as you said, I am also Oberjarl, which means I have duties I have to take care of." The Male said, his voice rolling with authority. "Prince Xedus, send over the flames of Travel on the Island of Hallosham to this Realm. The Prince nodded before he took off, running towards the edge of the cliff before jumping off, falling out of sight before a dragon, with glimmering Bronze Scales flew through the air and started flying away, bronze flames licking over the dragon's body before it disappeared.

"He should be back soon." The High Prince said, silver eyes studying the males, looking like the moon itself rested in them. "In the meantime, let us take you to the castle where we will outfit you and have our Priests decide if you are to become Dragon-Man or Dragon Riders." He said calmly before Exodus continued on his way, walking down the street, Apollos motioning for them to follow, which they did at this point, because well, they didn't know anything about this place yet.

+=+ 39 Minutes Later +=+

The castle soon came into sight, its towers standing tall and glimmering in the sunlight, everything about the place screaming grand. As they walked in, there were stables full of the Dragons of Skyrim. "When I made these beasts, I designed them to be inferior to my species, which meant, I took away their forelegs and gave them souls that can be taken or eaten. But when they evolved past what I intended them, when they learned the Way of the Voice, the Thu'um, I created the Man of Dragonblood, or the Dovahkiin, and only one has become a Divine, Talos as you know him by. But than my son, Alduin was sent forward in time, and I knew then, that my glorious creations were in trouble, so I went to create another Dragonblooded, the Last Dragonborn, Then Shor put himself up for reincarnation and as he was known as Lorkhan, he cast his essence and soul into the young body of the dragon blooded Nord." Apollos said calmly.

At the High King's words, every Nord stopped and immediately stared at Apollos. "Are you, Akatosh?" They asked, their voices hesitant. Apollos stopped and looked back at them. "No, Akatosh, the Dragon-God of Time and king of The Divines is my Twin Brother, I helped in creating the realm of Nirn, Mundus, Tamriel, Skyrim and all the species and Dragons that exist there." He said calmly in reply. "My brother is still one of us, but he has no Claim to this Throne, the Throne of the East, he claims control of the Kingdom of the West, where him and his Divines rest." The Nords nodded and began walking again. "So what are Dragon Riders?" Jonathan asked, his voice holding great interest.

"A Dragon Rider is someone who bonds with the Dragons who are not of my blood or creation and they bond with the Dragon while they are an egg, while not everyone is a Dragon Rider, those that are, are ranked rather highly in any kingdom of this Realm, but if some of your men don't become Dragon Riders, they will become Dragon-Men, like me and my brothers here." Apollos said as they walked through the vast and expansive doors before he sat down on a throne crafted from Gold. "So are you interested in helping me and my kingdom out, while fighting in a glorious battle than can gain you entrance to Sovngarde?" The King asked, his eyebrow raised slightly.

Authors Note:While this chapter is shorter than that of the Previous chapter, this was more or less to get it out there, and there is a high probability that for now, chapters won't be that long, not until I get a feel ad rhythm for writing this, and than, by the later chapters, you might start seeing longer chapters. But hey, tell me what you guys think so far in the comments, give me ideas and all that, and private message me if you want your character to be apart of this story.

Also, they will be apart of the Hallosham Island group who will be popping up next chapter.

Character sheet will be

Name:

Age:

Species: Nord

Clan: Stormbringer

Home: Hallosham

Weapon:

Skill set:

If you are interested in becoming a proofreader/Beta Reader, email me at nicholasmcvicker01 gmail dot com, I will respond as fast as I can, also send me your character sheet to me through my email address at well. If you want to be my Beta Reader, tell me why I should take you on, what your applications are and all that shizz biz.

Thank you and have a wonderful day my dear readers.


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